THE BOY, THE MOLE, THE FOX, AND THE HORSE

"You know, sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. It can tell you you're no good, that it's all hopeless. But I've discovered this: You are loved and important, and you bring to this world things that no one else can. So hold on." - The Fox

It takes quite a lot, or maybe quite little, to encompass the human experience in one film. As brief and seismic life must feel all at once, loneliness and self-doubt can engulf a person for a lifetime. As adults, we compartmentalize our fears and numb our sadness as we drown our days in work and activities. Existential questions emerging from suffering don't always demand hard truths, sometimes the answers are simple, sometimes all it takes is a quiet, 34 minute animated film about the friendship between a boy, a mole, a fox, and a horse. A contemplative comfort film directed by Peter Baynton & Charlie Mackesy, The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse demonstrates the impact a concise, perceptive script can have on the mental psyche and how a project so ostensibly small can invoke something so massively powerful.

The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse follows the boy as he finds himself lost on a snow covered hillside. After he befriends the mole, the two set out on a quest to find the boy’s home, searching for the river to guide their way. After some time, the fox catches their scent, circling them as they take shelter in a tree. The fox, in a twist of fate, eventually finds himself at their mercy when he stumbles into an animal trap. They set him free and continue on their travels with the fox following from a distance. They then meet a horse, who claims he is not lost, but nonetheless joins them in their search for a home. The four frolic, vent, play and look after each other, evolving as a straightforward tale of friendship and self-acceptance into a therapeutic swathe of protective introspection. Baynton & Mackesy adapt a demographically fated children's book into an overwhelming odyssey that leaves everything out on the table.

The condensed run time of the film only benefits its poignance. Rather than add fluff and insert time for reflection, Baynton & Mackesy concentrate a raw narrative, resulting in constant, explosive emotions. The lack of reprieve impacts the viewing experience because it's so unexpected and saturated, like a hundred life lessons squeezed into one conceptualized nexus. Leaving the parts with weight was artfully done, leaving the viewer lighter and lighter as every minute ticked by. BMFH took its subject matter and instead of building to a boiling point or coming to a grandiose revelation, it produced from start to finish a meteoric delivery of perpetual epiphanies and insidiously commanding dialogue. Every single image, sentence, and cinematic decision established an importance without which leaves this treasure less moving. It’s just unfettered purity and compassion packed into one tremendous punch.

The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse creates a level of comfort that allows viewers to access vulnerabilities and insecurities within themselves. Not only does the film acknowledge and accept your shortcomings, it also gently conveys that you are not alone in these beliefs. As if scientifically researched to emulate a safe cocoon, the voice-actors, score, visuals and even dialogue are specifically designed to soothe you. BMFH’s Midas touch finds itself in the ability to disarm its audience without a single stroke of abrasion or resolve. It is difficult to pinpoint what exactly fuels such an affectionate narrative, but a concoction of words, animation and sound equate to the cheapest therapy session one could ask for. Feeling seen, better yet feeling understood, is something Baynton & Macksey can confidently claim mastery of in this creation of bursting wisdom.

The dialogue in this film pierces with a force that moves you to tears. Regardless of criticisms claiming each character tries to out-quote the other in a hallmark card one-liner quote off, the ultimate interpretation is what you make of it. The special invasiveness of the script works in the opposite way most emotionally driven films do. Instead of constructing everything piece by piece with a revelatory impassioned moment in the end, Baynton & Mackesy show you the whole puzzle right from the beginning. In doing so, it allows the film to operate freely by showing you why each piece fits the way it does. Showing you all the cards from the jump allows a sense of comfort and trust, the audience is aware of the destination, allowing you to soak up the journey. The dialogue is the most important part, each character bravely admitting weakness while the others rally around him. A family, a home, friends, whatever you want to call it, these characters in tandem with the audience, experience an authentic transformation thanks to the vitality and communal nature of the script.

The elusiveness of self-discovery establishes its own forms of trauma in our subconscious. Inadequacy and belonging, though universal, feel alienating and unique. The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse tackle these issues head on, never shying away from honest admittance many adults fear exposing. Baynton & Mackesy encased a short film about relatively deep topics and molded them into a nurturing space for reflection. Every decision from the design to a word’s inflection strikes a cord of familiarity and melancholy. Don’t let the simple design fool you, this film elevates the expectation of an emotional rollercoaster, holding up to other two hour films with much larger budgets. A film about four unlikely friends may have just delivered the most delicate message about self-acceptance.